Following article is published in the Norwegian scientific journal of art history,

Kunst og Kultur, nr. 1 2014. Copyright: Universitetsforlaget, Oslo.

The article is part of a larger ongoing art historical analysis related to a planned touring exhibition in 2015-16,

currently being produced by the Norwegian National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design in Oslo.

Old Icons in New Guises

From the Snorri illustrations to the film trilogy Lord of the Rings

Nina Denney Ness

nina.denny.ness@nasjonalmuseet.no

In the worldwide blockbuster The Lord of the Rings, based on J.R.R. Tolkien’s book of the

same title, several scenes bear notable resemblances to illustrations in the 1899 Norwegian

edition of Snorres Kongesagaer (Heimskringla. A History of the Norse Kings, by Snorri

Sturluson). The illustrations in this edition were drawn by Halfdan Egedius, Christian Krohg,

Gerhard Munthe, Eilif Peterssen, Erik Werenskiold and Wilhelm Wetlesen.1 This article

discusses for the first time the intricate connections between the drawings, the books and the

film trilogy.

The similarities are apparent on a variety of levels; some are visually striking, others are more

a matter of motif or thematic content. In some cases the parallels are noticeable in terms of

mood. Sometimes the similarities are encapsulated in shots of just a few seconds, other times

in more extended sequences. Either way, the parallels involve various aspects of the culture

and mythology of the saga era, and it is obvious that the filmmakers were influenced by the

Snorri illustrations. In this article I shall examine the complex visual relationships between

the drawings, texts and film, and their common origins in the world of the sagas.2

The Lord of the Rings film epos is a trilogy consisting of The Fellowship of the Ring

(2001), The Two Towers (2002) and The Return of the King (2003). The basis for the films

were the books of the same titles by J.R.R. Tolkien, which were originally published in three

volumes. The first two volumes appeared in 1954, the third in 1955. The film version is

regarded as one of the foremost examples of recent years of the “fantasy” genre, the

characteristics of which are supernatural events and magic. As in “fantasy” stories in general,

the action of the books takes place in a fictional world , in this case that of Middle-earth. We

follow the young hobbit Frodo on his quest together with the Fellowship of the Ring. The

goal of their undertaking is to destroy the One Ring, whereby they will also eliminate the

master of evil, the spirit Sauron. With help from among others the good wizard Gandalf, the

confederation of the Free Peoples ultimately prevails against Sauron and his ally, the evil

wizard Saruman.

As filmmaker Peter Jackson himself has said, the literature of the Norse sagas was an

important source of inspiration for Tolkien: “Tolkien based so much of his story on the Norse

sagas.”3 Thanks to his position as university professor of Old Norse from 1922 to 1959,

Tolkien was familiar with Snorri, the main source of our knowledge of the Norse sagas.

When reading The Lord of the Rings, one encounters many echoes of the Icelandic poet.

Some of these are textual, others have to do with visual imagery that corresponds to specific

illustrations. Tolkien is particularly admired for the visually evocative power of his writing

style.

During the making of the films, the books of The Lord of the Rings where a veritable

“bible” for the members of the design team. Jackson and his designers wanted the films to be

as visually faithful to Tolkien’s books as possible.4 As one of the principal designers said:

“We tried to draw most of our design influences first from Tolkien’s written word […].”5As a

result of this approach, a link, albeit indirect, was also established between the film trilogy

and Snorri – via Tolkien’s books.

It is also highly likely that the film team became more directly acquainted with the

Snorri illustrations. One reason why they would have wanted to familiarise themselves with

this material is presumably that these drawings have exerted a defining influence on the

pictorial and visual representation of Saga Culture. Consequently, the Snorri illustrations

carry an aura of authenticity, which Jackson also wanted his films to convey. We know that

before starting on the actual design work, the film team immersed themselves in historical

sources relating to the various cultures and historical periods alluded to in Tolkien’s stories.6

Another relevant point is that filmmakers frequently seek inspiration from art history.

That this was also true in the case of The Lord of the Rings is implied in the following

statement by one of the chief designers: “[…] we were trying to hint at the whole notion of

art history.”7 The practice of basing film scenes on historical works of art helps to create a

patina of timelessness, or an aura of the epic.

How exactly the influence of the Snorri illustrations was transmitted is an interesting

question, yet one that falls outside the scope of this article. Work on the films proceeded at a

frenetic pace and involved complex collaborations between several departments, which

collectively employed some 200 illustrators and designers. Most famous among them were

Alan Lee and John Howe, but there were also many others.8 Influence may have occurred at

various stages of the film work – during the preparatory phase, the production phase, or the

editing and post-production work. In other words, the influence might have occurred in

conjunction with the initial “previsualising” sketches, during the drawing of the storyboards

and/or in connection with the final processing of the film footage.

Earlier research on the inspiration that Tolkien himself received from Snorri and the

saga literature has confined itself to the literary aspect. One book that addresses this theme is

Nancy Marie Brown’s popularly pitched Song of the Vikings. Snorri and the Making of Norse

Myths, from 2012. Another is Marjorie Burns’ Perilous Realms. Celtic and Norse in

Tolkien’s Middle-earth from 2005. I have been unable, however, to find any scholarly studies

on the subject of either the links between the Snorri illustrations and Tolkien’s books, or the

links between the former and the Lord of the Rings films. In other words, this article appears

to be venturing into previously unexplored territory.

In the following I shall analyse five representative motifs with reference to two visual

sources: the Snorri illustrations and the Lord of the Rings film trilogy. The analysis of the

film material will be based on images from the scenes: Eowyn outside the Golden Hall,

Lady Galadriel’s Mirror, Gandalf Riding Shadowfax and The Battle of Pelennor Fields.

These film images will be compared with Gyda sender bud til Kong Harald (Gyda Sends

Messengers to King Harald) and Kong Haralds menn kommer atter til Gyda (King Harald’s

Men Return to Gyda), both by Christian Krohg, Erik Werenskiold’s Dronning Ragnhilds

drøm (Queen Ragnhild’s Dream), Gerhard Munthe’s Odin, and Halfdan Egedius’

Bondehæren (The Vassal Army). All these drawings were done in pen and produced between

1895 and 1899. The visual analysis is augmented with text from Snorri’s Heimskringla and

Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings.

The Snorri drawings

It has been claimed that the publication of Snorres Kongesagaer in 1899 made a greater

contribution to Norway’s struggle for freedom, independence and democracy than any other

single book. The drawings were produced for the so-called “deluxe edition” of 1899, with the

text translated into Norwegian by the historian and medieval scholar Gustav Storm. This was

the first thoroughly illustrated edition of Snorri. Admittedly, an earlier edition from 1838–39

had contained drawings by J. Flintoe, but these were not direct illustrations of the sagas so

much as depictions of landscapes and places mentioned in the text. In the same year as the

deluxe edition was published, a more affordable popular edition known as the national edition

was also launched. This carried the same illustrations, but lacked the margin decorations.9

The book quickly became popular, with as many as 100,000 copies being printed in the early

years of the 20th century. Since then, the book has been reissued in frequent new translations

and editions.

The huge popularity of this publication and the fact that it sold so widely help to

explain the immense influence it came to exert on how we visualise the Viking Age. The

depth and range of this influence is also due to the fact that the drawings gave the Viking Age

a new appearance, with the illustrators deferring to historical research far more extensively

than any of their forerunners. Under the strict guidance of Gustav Storm, the Snorri artists

studied every available source material, including weapons and other artefacts in the

Collection of Norwegian Antiquities at Oslo University Museum, and the depictions of

costumes in ancient manuscripts kept at the University Library. The Gokstad ship, excavated

in 1880, was also scrutinised and sketched in detail, as was the Bayeux Tapestry from the

years around 1070, which is among the oldest known visual representations of the Viking

Age. In other words, it is fair to say that the Snorri drawings depicted the Viking period more

accurately than any of the illustrations they superseded.10

Earlier illustrations had placed

greater emphasis on the artful use of figures, reminiscent of Greeks and Romans in tritely

theatrical poses. Moreover, they lack the atmosphere of a coarser, remote past that we

associate with the sagas, something the Snorri artists were more adept at conveying. Several

of the Snorri drawings offer faithful renditions of the most evocative passages in the sagas,

with their highly condensed, concise sentences and bold narrative devices. This is particularly

true of the drawings by Erik Werenskiold, Halfdan Egedius and Gerhard Munthe.

Dragons and heroism

One of the defining characteristics of Tolkien’s literary aesthetic is his refined use of

ambiguity. His fictional universe builds on a remarkably broad range of inspirational sources

– a dazzling myriad of intricately interwoven threads and influences. There can, however, be

no doubt that one of the contributing elements to this dense weave was Norse literature and

mythology. Tolkien belonged to what was then the international elite of specialists in Norse

literature and language. As a professor of Anglo-Saxon and English at Leeds University and

Oxford, he taught Old Norse from 1925 to 1959. It should also be noted that, as a professor at

Oxford, he managed to have Shakespeare partly replaced by Snorri on the curriculum.11

Given this deep interest in the literature of the sagas and his general fondness for collections

and archives, it is reasonable to assume that Tolkien would have ensured he had access to the

first richly illustrated edition of Snorri that came out in 1899, which means in turn that he was

most probably acquainted with the Snorri drawings. We know that the Oxford University

Library acquired the 1899 edition as early as 1900. Thus the illustrations were at least

available to him at his place of work in the years when he was writing The Lord of the

Rings.12

One reason to assume that Tolkien was interested in the 1899 edition of Snorri is his

general interest in the visualising of narratives, as we see in his highly evocative writing

style. Another reason is his interest in the art of illustration. As a keen amateur artist he

produced numerous illustrations for his stories in The Silmarillion, The Hobbit and The Lord

of the Rings. Like his narrative writing, Tolkien’s pictures are “products of a melting-pot,

where all the art he saw was combined”.13

Indeed, aspects of his own drawings may well be

attributable to familiarity with the Snorri illustrations, with their depictions of, among other

things, Nordic mountain scenery, snow and forests. Not least there is the characteristic use of

black lines and rhythmical, systematic hatching. There are clear similarities here to the use of

line in many of the Snorri illustrations and its prominence as a defining characteristic of what

is often referred to as the “Snorri style”.14

It should be noted, however, that although Tolkien

produced several drawings of scenes from The Lord of the Rings, these were never published

as illustrations in the book itself.15

Tolkien’s interest in the era of the sagas went back a long way. As a young teenager

he learned Old Norse in order to be able to read the sagas in the original. His passion for

Norse myths had begun even earlier, when as a child he read the Volsunga Saga about Sigurd

Fåvnesbane. Amongst the things that attracted him was the many heroic figures, their

fearless determination and frequent displays of bravery, even when all hope was lost. Tolkien

summed this up as “the theory of courage, which is the greatest contribution of early

Northern literature”.16

Tolkien’s enthusiasm for the culture of the sagas also has a broader context. Since the

period of the Enlightenment in the 18th century, interest in the saga culture had been

stimulated in England by the work of people such as Thomas Percy and Paul-Henri Mallet,

not to mention William Morris, who was a significant influence on Tolkien.17

Tolkien’s

fervent interest in the freedom and heroism of the Vikings thus fitted into a long tradition

stretching all the way back to Montesquieu, the first thinker of modern times to highlight the

Nordic countries as a moral example for Europe. In his De l’esprit des lois (1748),

Montesquieu describes Scandinavia as “having been the source of the liberties of Europe”

and Scandinavians as “those valiant people who sallied forth and deserted their countries to

destroy tyrants and slaves, and to teach men that, nature having made them equal, reason

could not render them dependent”.18

These words are strongly reminiscent of Tolkien’s own

portrayal of the people of Rohan and their allies, including among others the good wizard

Gandalf.

“Vikings of the plains”

Many of the film sequences that show the closest parallels to the Snorri drawings deal with

narrative episodes relating to Rohan. Whether or not we are meant to view the people of

Rohan as Anglo-Saxons or Vikings has been a topic of much debate within Tolkien circles.

Relevant here is Jackson’s statement: “The Rohan culture always seems to me to be very

much based on Norse, Scandinavia, Northern European civilizations. And that comes across

in the books, and we really didn’t want to deviate from that in the film.”19

This attitude is

supported by the head of the film company’s artistic department, Dan Hennah: “There was a

sort of theory that we should think of them as Vikings of the plains. Vikings without their

ships but with their horses instead.”20

Jackson expands on this by pointing out the numerous

horse motifs that feature in the design of Rohan, as elements in the roof ornamentation and as

architectural carvings.21

At the same time we see in the films that Viking elements are intermixed with Anglo-

Saxon references, such as Sutton Hoo-style helmets, armour and decorations. This

ambivalence corresponds to Tolkien’s aesthetic of ambiguity and contributes to the films’

distinctive atmosphere. At the same time the ambivalence corresponds with a fundamental

attitude to Viking culture in England, the long tradition of bracketing Norse and Anglo-Saxon

culture together, due to their many points of overlap.22

Another reason for the confusion has

to do with a certain fusion of the two by Tolkien himself, since in his endeavour to create an

English epic, he was inclined to add Norse myths and legends to the mix.23

Despite this,

Tolkien let it be known that this type of intermixture did not apply in the case of Rohan. In

Appendix F of The Lord of the Rings, Tolkien writes about linguistic aspects of the various

cultures that feature in the book and explains that, for reasons of readability and overall

coherence, he chose to give the people of Rohan a language reminiscent of English: “This

linguistic procedure does not imply that the Rohirrim closely resembled the ancient English

otherwise, in culture or art, in weapons or modes of warfare, except in a general way […]”24

(author’s italics).

Tolkien also appears to allude to Scandinavia in his description of the horsemen of

Rohan on their first appearance in the book: “tall and long-limbed; their hair, flaxen-pale,

flowed under their light helms, and streamed in long braids behind them; their faces were

stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, painted shields were slung at their

backs, long swords were at their belts, their burnished shirts of mail hung down upon their

knees.”25

This description of Rohan warriors on their galloping steeds feeds into one of the

arguments frequently repeated in the research literature which questions the link between the

people of Rohan and the Anglo-Saxons, namely that whereas Rohan is a horse-based society

like the Vikings, the same was not true of the Anglo-Saxons.26

Gyda and Eowyn

“Tolkien based so much of his story on the Norse sagas,” Peter Jackson remarks.27

When we

consider that Snorri is our main source of knowledge about the Norse sagas, it is only natural

that Jackson, like Tolkien before him, should turn to Snorri for inspiration. That he did so

becomes evident when we compare, for example, an illustration by Christian Krohg from

Harald Harfagre’s Saga (fig. 1) with a scene from The Lord of the Rings (fig. 2). In the film

scene, we meet the young woman Eowyn, niece of King Theoden of Rohan. Dressed in

white, with long blond tresses, she stands framed in an portico-style gallery decorated with

Norse dragon motifs. The gallery is part of the king’s Golden Hall, which stands on a high

outcrop. The building is also known as Meduseld, which stands for “mead hall” in Anglo-

Saxon. Eowyn’s gaze lingers on a group of horsemen in front of her, one of whom is

destined to become King Aragorn, with whom she will fall in love.

The film scene is strongly reminiscent of the drawing. In both cases we see a woman

in the setting of a covered gallery, wearing a long-sleeved white dress. With her fair hair

hanging loose over her shoulders, Gyda like Eowyn stands facing us on an elevation. The two

are seen from almost the same angle and vantage point, from slightly below. The women’s

expressions are also similar. They are presented as proud, upright and with raised chests. The

position of their arms is nearly identical. In addition, the facial features of both are soft, with

rounded contours. Their necks are long and similarly angled towards the collarbone. Eowyn’s

dainty necklace matches the little decoration on the upper edge of Gyda’s dress. Particularly

notable is the similarity between the patterns of Gyda’s belt and the vertical section of

Eowyn’s belt. Another resemblance is the meandering line of the river rising through the

picture to the left of Gyda, and the winding contours of the dragon motif similarly placed

next to Eowyn. Krohg’s drawing illustrates a pivotal scene in Snorri’s Harald Harfagre’s

Saga, when King Harald sends his men after Gyda, daughter of King Eirik of Hordaland:

Gyda […] was brought up as foster-child in the house of a great farmer in Valdres.

The king wanted her for his concubine; for she was a remarkably handsome girl, but

of high spirit withal. […] the messengers came there, and delivered their errand to the

girl […] Gyda said to the messengers, “Now tell to King Harald these my words. I

will only agree to be his lawful wife upon the condition that he shall first, for my

sake, subject to himself the whole of Norway […] for only then, methinks, can he be

called the king of a people.”

On hearing her message, King Harald replied: “I make the solemn vow […] that never shall I

clip or comb my hair until I have subdued the whole of Norway […].”28

Like Gyda, Eowyn is a foster-child in the house where we first see here. Both are here

relating to future kings. The parallels become still stronger when we compare Krohg’s

illustration Kong Haralds menn kommer atter til Gyda (King Harald’s Men Return to Gyda)

(fig. 3) with the next sequence in the film (fig. 4).29

In both we see a woman turning to the

viewer’s left, where she sees a horseman approaching along the road below. In the film the

presence of the horse is emphasised by the horse motif on the pennant fluttering beside the

woman. The motif on the pennant also reinforces the film still’s relationship to the drawing

by echoing the position and size of the horse relative to Gyda.

Both Gyda’s and Eowyn’ long tresses flutter in the breeze, while behind on the

horizon are mountains. In the film image, the two flag poles echo the vertical lines of the

gallery opening through which Gyda leans out. If we consider the terrace where Eowyn

stands, there is a further similarity between the shape and layout of the stones and the wooden

planks of Krohg’s gallery. There is also a correspondence in the perspective lines of the two

buildings, which in both cases converge towards a vanishing point somewhere behind the

woman in the right half of the picture space. And although Gyda stands inside a gallery while

Eowyn is placed on an open terrace, their heights relative to the horses beneath them are

similar. In addition, the images are related insofar as the horse motif of the roof decoration in

the film scene takes up the general Norse references in the illustration. The link to the Norse

theme is further enhanced by Tolkien’s description of Eowyn as the “shieldmaiden of

Rohan”. This allusion to female warriors and the Valkyries connects Eowyn directly with

saga literature.

Figure 3 relates to the following lines in Snorri: “When King Harald had now become

sole king over all Norway, he remembered what that proud girl had said to him; so he sent

men to her, and had her brought to him, and took her to his bed.”30

Here as well we recognise

elements from the film scene: the proud woman, sexual desire, an heir apparent on his way to

battle, and an entourage of horsemen. If we consider Tolkien’s other descriptions of Eowyn,

the pictures converge still further: “She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her.”31

“Grave

and thoughtful was her glance. […] Very fair was her face, and her long hair was like a river

of gold. Slender and tall she was in her white robe girt with silver, but strong she seemed and

stern as steel, a daughter of kings.”32

“Far over the plain Eowyn […] stood still, alone before

the doors of the silent house.”33

Ill.1. Christian Krohg, Gyda Sends her Message to King Harald, ca.1899. Penn on paper. Private ownership.

To the right: Eowyn in front of the Golden Hall in Edoras. From the film Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 2002.

© New Line Productions.

Ill.2.Christian Krohg: King Harald’s Men Return to Gyda, Ill. 3. Eowyn in Front of the Golden Hall in Edoras.

ca.1899.Penn on paper. Private ownership. From the film Lord of the Rings; The Two Towers, 2002. © New Line Productions.

Ragnhild and Galadriel

One frequently overlooked aspect of Norse mythology is its references to elves. This theme

is, however, touched upon indirectly, if we compare Erik Werenskiold’s drawing Dronning

Ragnhilds drøm (Queen Ragnhild’s Dream) from Halfdan the Black Saga (fig. 5), with the

film scene Lady Galadriel’s Mirror (fig. 6). Both images show a tall, ethereally beautiful

woman in a white dress, with long, flowing locks of fair hair. She appears graceful and

distinguished, her facial expression is dreamy and remote. In both the film and the drawing,

the fairy-tale atmosphere is emphasised by the unusual tree beside which the woman stands,

its winding roots and branches twining themselves around her.

In both Snorri and Tolkien, the woman is a queen with clairvoyant abilities. In Snorri,

the drawing illustrates the account of a dream that Ragnhild had prior to the birth of her son

Harald Harfagre:

Ragnhild, who was wise and intelligent, dreamt great dreams. She dreamt, for one,

that she was standing out in her herb-garden, and she took a thorn out of her shift; but

while she was holding the thorn in her hand it grew so that it became a great tree, one

end of which struck itself down into the earth, […] and the other end of the tree raised

itself so high in the air that she could scarcely see over it, and it became also

wonderfully thick [… with] branches white as snow. There were many and great

limbs to the tree, […] and so vast were the tree’s branches that they seemed to her to

cover all Norway, and even much more.34

The dream described here was interpreted as a prophecy about the son whom Ragnhild would

soon bring forth – about the long life of Harald Harfagre, his numerous offspring and the

great influence he would gain throughout the land. Like Ragnhild, Galadriel is also a queen.

She is queen of the kingdom of the elves. Like Ragnhild, she is wise and intelligent and can

see into the future. But where Ragnhild is visited by dreams, Galadriel fills a silver basin with

water in order to see – in Tolkien’s words – “things that were, and things that are, and things

that yet may be”.35

Galadriel’s visions are also dream-like by nature. “Like a dream the vision

shifted […]” Tolkien writes.36

If we add to this his description of the elven queen Galadriel,

we are easily reminded of Werenskiold’s depiction of Queen Ragnhild: “Tall and white and

fair she walked beneath the trees. She spoke no word […].”37

“[…] grave and beautiful […]

clad wholly in white […] the hair of the Lady was of deep gold.”38

The description of the tree in the above translation of Snorri would be just as fitting if

applied to the mighty “mallorn” trees that grow only in Galadriel’s kingdom. Concerning

these, Tolkien writes: “There are no trees like the trees of that land […] its pillars are of silver

[…].”39

“Their great grey trunks were of mighty girth, but their height could not be

guessed.”40

The similarities with Snorri’s description are striking. Both authors describe

miraculous, whitish trees of supernatural thickness and height.

Ill. 4. Erik Werenskiold: Queen Ragnhilds Dream, ca.1899.

Private ownership.

Ill. 5. Lady Galadriel’s Mirror.

From the film Lord of the Rings; The Fellowship of the Ring, 2001. © New Line Cinema.

Odin and Gandalf

If we now compare Gerhard Munthe’s Odin from Harald Harfagre’s Saga (fig. 7) with a

scene from the film showing Gandalf riding on Shadowfax (fig. 8), we notice other

resemblances. In both images we see a white-haired, bearded man in profile, a long staff in

his hand, leaning slightly back as he rides a galloping horse. His cape flaps in the wind

behind him, and he is wearing pale coloured leggings. In both images, the beards are similar

in terms of both length and the angular cut. In both cases, the hair falls towards the shoulder

in much the same way, curving up at the back of the neck. Further, the horse plays a similarly

dominant role in both compositions. But there is also a similarity in the cropping of the

images – just above the man’s head, at the tip of the horse’s trailing tail, and just below the

horse’s hooves.

Figs. 8 and 9 introduce one of the film’s principal characters, the wizard Gandalf,

whose name Tolkien took, by his own account, from the Dvergatal – a list of the names of

dwarves in the Völuspá, a poem in Edda. As Tolkien writes: “[…] Gandalfr is a dwarf-name

in Völuspá.”41

As an Old Norse word, Gandalfr can be translated as “white wizard”, “white

magic wand”, or “elf with wand”. Although Gandalf is not an elf, the other definitions are

very appropriate.42

Other literary similarities are furthermore brought to light. One relevant Norse

connection is the god Odin, who also appears in Snorri. The link between Gandalf and Odin

is a matter Tolkien is obviously aware of when he describes Gandalf as an “Odinic

wanderer”.43

Like Odin, Gandalf is one who embarks on frequent and distant travels. Both

ride the best horse – Odin the supernaturally fast, eight-legged Sleipner, Gandalf the

miraculously swift, glossy white Shadowfax. “Does he not shine like silver,” Gandalf asks,

“and run as smoothly as a swift stream?”44

The mere fact that Gandalf’s horse is named,

creates a connection to the sagas, where horses are so valued as to make this common

practice.

The link between Odin and Gandalf is further reinforced by the fact that both are

magicians or shamans with access to the spiritual world and the realm of the dead. As Snorri

says; “Odin understood also the art in which the greatest power is lodged, and which he

himself practised; namely, what is called magic.”45

Reference to magic helps us identify other

similarities between the Munthes drawing and a different scene in the film, which shows

Gandalf riding on a giant eagle. In his flight he is followed by two other huge eagles

reminiscent of the two ravens accompanying Odin in Munthe’s drawing. Hugin and Munin

were Odin’s most useful helpers in gaining knowledge of events taking place in the world.

The birds that follow Gandalf are likewise magical sources of knowledge about distant

occurrences.

.

Ill. 6. Gerhard Munthe: Odin, 1899. Ill. 7. Gandalf Riding Shadowfax.

Penn and pencil on paper, 70 x 83 mm From the film Lord of the Rings; The Two Towers, 2002.

Nasjonal Museum of Art, Architecture and Design © New Line Productions. Foto: Anne Hansteen Jarre.

Ill. 8. Gandalf and the Magic Eagles.

From the film Lord of the Rings; Return of the King, 2003.

© New Line Cinema.

Stiklestad and Pelennor Fields

Turning now to the many battles scenes in the film trilogy, one in particular is reminiscent of

a famous illustration in Snorri: Bondehæren (The Vassal Army) by Halfdan Egedius (fig. 9).

In this depiction of the Battle of Stiklestad taken from Olav den helliges saga (Saga of Olaf

Haraldson) we see clear parallels with the Battle of Pelennor Fields. Both images show a

scene of overwhelming dimensions, with warriors massing in their thousands, the motif

focusing on the moment just before an epic battle of crucial importance – the silence before

the storm.

Striking correspondences include the huge V-formation of the mass, pointing towards

the right, where it stops beside a brighter field in front of a rounded elevation, the slope and

precipitous right edge of which form another common feature. In both images, the upper

contour of the human formation subtly echoes the undulating line of the horizon. At the same

time, the lower contour of the massive army forms a diagonal at an identical angle towards

both the upper silhouette and the right picture frame. In both the drawing and the film image,

the warriors are arranged in serried ranks. In front of them, in the lower left corner of each

image, we glimpse a few isolated individuals. In the film image, the positioning of these two

figures relative to the front line corresponds with a cluster of warriors in the drawing. One of

the figures in the film image is Theoden, King of Rohan, actively rousing his men with the

cry: “Now is the hour come, Riders of the Mark […]”46

Egedius’ drawing answers to an

iconic moment in the saga narrative. It depicts the battle of Stiklestad on 29 July 1030, in

which King Olav Haraldsson met his death, a few years before he was beatified as Saint Olaf.

The battle would be remembered by posterity as the moment in which Christianity arrived in

Norway. And as such it is treated as highly significant not just by Snorri but by medieval

history in general, due to its many and far-reaching consequences. The drawing depicts the

armed forces that came to meet Olaf’s troops, the so-called vassal army, which consisted of a

broad alliance of various groups, led by Kalf Arnason. The vassal army is in the process of

preparing its battle formation. Concerning the immense size of this formation, Snorri says

that the army was so numerous that never before had anyone in Norway seen its like. It

represented a massive rebellion against what was perceived as Olav’s despotic attempt to

Christianise the country under protest. This was a rebellion against coercion and slavery,

pillage and murder. The drawing conveys the people’s determination to stand as one and to

march with a single will by depicting the army as a homogeneous mass. In the film it is

likewise a case of violent rebellion against coercion and destructive forces. The alliance that

faces the enemy is similarly broad and united, a condition that is visually communicated by

the same means as are used in the drawing, with an emphasis on the breadth and uniform

character of the assembled army.

If we consider the sky in these two pictures, we see that in both cases there is a

deliberate contrasting of light and dark. In The Lord of the Rings, dark skies are general

associated with “The Great Darkness”, or the dominion of evil. In this image the darkness is

already succumbing to the light, presaging the battle’s ultimately favourable outcome: “Time

seemed poised in uncertainty […] Then suddenly […] light was glimmering. Far, far away, in

the South the clouds could be dimly seen as remote grey shapes, rolling up, drifting: morning

lay beyond them.”47

In the Egedius drawing, the shift between light and dark carries a slightly different

symbolism. Snorri says: “The weather was beautiful, and the sun shone clear; but when the

battle began the heaven and the sun became red, and before the battle ended it became as dark

as at night. […] No common wonder in the sky / Fell out that day – the sun on high, / And

not a cloud to see around, / Shone not, nor warmed Norway’s ground. / The day on which fell

out this fight / Was marked by dismal dusky light, / This from the East I heard […]”48

The sudden darkening of the sky is therefore interpreted as a miracle, which later

contributed to Olaf’s beatification. Likewise in the film, the dramatic transformation of the

sky is explained in terms of magic. Another aspect shared by the drawing and the film image

is the linkage between heavenly transformation and the struggle between Light and Dark,

Good and Evil. This thematic similarity is emphasised by means of a kind of mirror inversion

in the two images: in the drawing, the darkness of the sky is encroaching from the left, while

the sun is vanishing behind the hill to the right. In the film image we see the opposite – the

darkness is fading over the mountains to the right, while the light is moving in from the left.49

One aspect of the Snorri drawings that probably contributed to their appeal for the

filmmakers is their numerous epic elements. The drawings convey the impression that the

events referred to are of immense significance and gravity. This reminds us of one of the

crucial parallels between Snorri’s Sagas and Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings. Both works

belong to a tradition of epic literature, insofar as the stories take place in a heroic distant past.

The time that has elapsed between then and now is of enormous duration, and the events

described are of profound significance for the subsequent development of the narrative.

Several of the characters are also heroic in an epic sense. They have extraordinary powers

and are either immortal or live supernaturally long lives. Like the Snorri artists, one of

Jackson’s aims was to render this epic literary content in a visual form. Why then not

seek inspiration from these artists solutions?

Ill. 9. Halfdan Egedius: The Vassal Army, ca.1899. Ill. 10. Battle of Pellenor Fields.

Penn on paper, 171 x 211 mm. From the film Lord og the Ring: Return of the King, 2003. © New Line Cinema

National Museum of Art, Architecture and Design. Foto: Anne Hansteen Jarre. .

Identifiable and Scandinavian

“Rohan is based on Scandinavian culture […]”50

Peter Jackson

The following comment by one of Jackson’s principal designers is useful in illuminating the

many connecting lines between the film trilogy and the world of the sagas: “At all times, the

overriding design ethic was to never approach ‘The Lord of the Rings’ as if it was a fantasy

[…].”51

In other words, the aim was to make the films seem “real” and believable. The

material aspects of culture in the films – buildings, costumes, weapons and other artefacts –

should not give the impression of being products of pure fantasy. This was one reason why

the designers turned to historical sources, an approach for which Jackson must be given the

credit: “Jackson was clearly the driving force behind this historical/archaeological

approach.”52

As Jackson himself says:

It’s not fantasy. It’s history, and Tolkien himself thought of this as a prehistory and

mythology of Europe […]. We built on that and based everything in the movie in

reality. Rohan is based on Scandinavian culture. We tried to base it on things that

seem familiar rather than foreign.53

The aspects of Scandinavian culture on which Rohan is based are largely prehistoric and

mythological, which means they are derived from the Viking era. Jackson’s remark indicates

that his team searched for historical sources that would help them achieve a “real” and

authentic impression of Viking culture, for which purpose the Snorri drawings are especially

well suited. The enduring appeal and widespread distribution of these drawings due to the

numerous Snorri editions, means the impression the drawings convey of the Viking era is in

addition easily identifiable and recognisable.54

Jackson’s frequently repeated aim to create an

impression of authenticity seems to build on a major explanation behind Tolkien’s unusually

broad appeal: the impression Tolkien’s book give of being genuine and real. As the historian

Nils Ivar Agøy points out, his readers are led to feel “there is no cheating [...] It isn’t merely

‘invented’, but is rooted in genuine tradition, true stories […]”.

Agøy also adds that Tolkien’s books “seem to satisfy a yearning for the recognisable”,

and that they seem to “function by affirming identity. In a way they inform us about who we

are, making us aware of the roots that were once ours, but which we haven’t thought much

about, whether they be the fairy tales of childhood or excerpts from the sagas which we had

to read in school […] it is also interesting that beyond the English-speaking world, Tolkien’s

books seem to have sold best in Scandinavia.”55

Other art historical sources

It is important to remember that Jackson and the other designers who worked on this film

trilogy used numerous different sources of visual inspiration. As initially mentioned, we

know that before starting on the actual design work, the film team immersed themselves in

great quantities of historical source material relating to the various cultures and historical

periods touched upon in the story.

As far as the film scenes here discussed are concerned, it could be mentioned that

regarding the Pelennor Fields (fig. 10), Jackson has said he “was inspired […] by […]

Albrecht Altdorfer at the very beginning of planning in 1997. There was one painting in

particular (The Battle of Alexander at Issus).”56

He explains that this painting was particularly

a source of inspiration for one of the other battle scenes, Helm’s Deep, but points out that: “It

has also, to some degree, influenced what the Pelennor Fields look like too. It is wonderfully

evocative and moody.”57

Although the parallels between the film scene and the Battle at Issus

from 1529 are evident, the human masses in the latter are far more chaotic and restless than

the mass we see in the film sequence, especially in the still image we see here. The similarity

to Egedius’ drawing, with its atmosphere of silent calm is clearly more pronounced and clear.

The kinship is also evident what regards visual and compositional aspects.

Concerning the film’s depiction of Eowyn in the gallery, it is conceivable that the film

designers have seen August Malmström’s illustration Ingeborgs klagan (Ingeborg’s Lament)

in Esaias Tegnér’s Frithjofs Saga from 1888. In Malmström’s drawing, Ingeborg is shown

standing in an open gallery embellished with carvings reminiscent of the decorated gallery in

the film image. Ingeborg’s costume, posture and expression, on the other hand, are clearly

different from those of Gyda, who bears far closer resemblance to Eowyn in the film scene.

Conclusion

The similarities between the Snorri drawings and the Lord of the Rings film trilogy bring out

an aspect of these illustrations that is often overlooked – their allusions to magic and the

supernatural. The way is thereby paved for re-contextualising the drawings within the

contemporary “fantasy” genre. This is a type of fiction characterised by supernatural events

and fantastical creatures. Where narratives often take place in imagined worlds with medieval

traits, and the plots revolve around the struggle between good and evil.

Since the best known example of “fantasy” fiction of our time is Tolkien’s legendary

universe, first and foremost The Lord of the Rings, the close kinship between his universe and

the Snorri illustrations allows the re-contextualisation of these illustrations within a

thoroughly global and contemporary visual culture.

The fact that that the illustrations were in all probability a source of influence for the

films means that they have now achieved an enduring impact on an international scale, in

addition to their earlier role as highly significant markers of Norway’s identity in that

country’s nation-building process in the early years of the 20th century.

1 The vast majority of the original drawings are in the Prints and Drawings Collection of the

National Museum, Oslo. 2 The article is part of a larger work for an exhibition organised by the National Museum.

3 Brian Sibley, Peter Jackson. A Filmmaker’s Journey, 2010, p. 439.

4 The Fellowship of the Ring, DVD. Extended version. Appendix.

5 “We hunted out people who were passionate about the books […] backed them up with

extensive research into appropriate periods of history. […] Our process basically started with

discussions about the subject matter, then research, then sketching, then color illustration […]

then […] three-dimensional maquettes. […] We tried to draw most of our design influences

first from Tolkien’s written word […]” Film designer Richard Taylor, in Gary Russel, The

Art of The Lord of the Rings, 2004, p. 141. 6 Russel, op. cit.

7 Film designer John Howe, The Fellowship of the Ring, DVD. Extended version. Appendix.

See e.g. film designer Jeremy Bennet: “When conceiving the environment of The Grey

Havens we were thinking of J.M.W. Turner.” Gary Russel, The Art of The Lord of the Rings,

2004, p. 61. 8 The two most important designers in the film team, Alan Lee and John Howe, were enlisted

for the production as a consequence of the extensive illustrations they had done for Tolkien’s

books in the 1990s. Their illustrations were, and are, known worldwide, and are particularly

closely associated with Tolkien’s stories in the minds of his readers. This was something

Jackson wanted to build on so as to create a world that would already feel familiar to Tolkien

fans. He also wanted to refresh the artists’ visual material, and was himself deeply involved

in the design process. Other notable film designers included Grant Major, Richard Taylor,

Dan Hennah, Jeremy Bennet, Paul Lasaine and Christian Rivers. 9 The only feature lacking in the popular edition is the margin decorations for each saga.

10 Notable examples of artists who had illustrated the sagas prior to the Snorri drawings

included, among others, Johann Heinrich Füssli, John Wiedewelt, Peter Cramer, Nicolai A.

Abildgaard, Carl Peter Lehmann, Christopher W. Eckersberg, Johan Ludvig Lund, Christen

Købke, Lorenz Frølich, Constantin Hansen, Nils J.O. Blommér, Johannes Flintoe, Jean-

Victor Schnetz, Fredrik N. Jensen, Evariste V. Luminais, Peter Nicolai Arbo, Ole Peter

Hansen. See David M. Wilson, Vikinger og guder i europeisk kunst (1997), exhibition

catalogue, Moesgård Museum. See also Margretha Rossholm, Nordisk Sekelskifteskonst. En

motivhistorisk og ideologisk undersøking, 1974.

11

“Reading Snorri and his peers was more important than reading Shakespeare, Tolkien

argued, because their books were more central to our language and our modern world.”

Nancy Marie Brown, Song of the Vikings. Snorri and the Making of Norse Myths, 2012, pp.

ix. 12

Email to the author from Rachel Griffiths, Taylor Institution Library / Bodleian Library,

Oxford University, dated 19 Nov. 2013: “We know that the book (Snorri, 1899 ed.) was

acquired in 1900, which means that it would certainly have been in the library during the

period you are interested in (1922–1959).” 13

Hammond and Scull, J.R.R. Tolkien: Artist and Illustrator (1995), p. 10. 14

The Tolkien drawing that shows the greatest similarity to the Snorri illustrations, in its use

of line and its rendition of mountain scenery, is the pen drawing The Mountain-path.

Compare this with e.g. Gerhard Munthe’s Åsmund Grankjellsson kommer over hustakene til

Hårek på utværet, from St. Olav’s Saga. 15

“[…] he seems never to have intended these for publication, or at least never suggested to

his publisher that The Lord of the Rings be an illustrated book like The Hobbit, with drawings

drawn by himself.” Hammond and Scull, J.R.R. Tolkien. Artist and Illustrator, 2000, p. 154. 16

David Day, The World of Tolkien. Mythological Sources of The Lord of the Rings, 2003, p.

178. 17

See e.g., Thomas Percy, Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, 1765; Paul-Henri Mallet,

Monuments de la mythologie et de la poesie des Celtes, et particulierement des anciens

Scandinaves, 1756. The latter work was translated to English by Thomas Percy with the title

Northern Antiquities, 1770; William Morris, The Story of Sigurd the Volsung and the Fall of

the Nibelungs, 1877. 18

Montesquieu, De l’esprit des lois, Book 17, Ch. 5; (trans.: Thomas Nugent, New York,

1900, pp. 268-9). 19

The Twin Towers. DVD. Extended version. Appendix. 20

Ibid. 21

Ibid. 22

See Christine Fell, “The first publication of Old Norse literature in England”, in E.

Rosendahl and Sørensen (eds.), The Waking of Angantyr. The Scandinavian Past in European

Culture, Aarhus (1996); and Marjorie Burns, Perilous Realms. Celtic and Norse in Tolkien’s

Middle-earth, 2005. 23

Similar to Elias Lönnrot’s attempt to construct a Finnish national epic in the Kalevala,

Tolkien wanted to construct a collection of interrelated stories that would recount England’s

epic past. 24

Ibid., footnote 1. The footnote continues: “[…] due to their circumstances: a simpler and

more primitive people living in contact with a higher and more venerable culture, and

occupying lands that had once been part of its domain”. This is expanded on in the main text

of the same appendix: “[…] when Hobbits heard the speech of Rohan they recognised many

words and felt the language to be akin to their own, so it seemed absurd to leave the recorded

names and words of the Rohirrim in a wholly alien style.” 25

Tolkien, op. cit., p. 431. 26

See also Michael D.C. Drout, “The Rohirrim, the Anglo-Saxons, and the Problem of

Appendix F: Ambiguity, Analogy and Reference in Tolkien’s Books and Jackson’s Films”, in

Bogstad and Kaveny (eds.), Picturing Tolkien, 2011. See also Thomas Honegger, “The

Rohirrim: Anglo-Saxons on Horseback? An Inquiry into Tolkien’s Use of Sources”, in Jason

Fisher (ed.), Tolkien and the Study of His Sources, 2011. 27

Brian Sibley, Peter Jackson. A Filmmaker’s Journey, 2010, p. 439.

28

This and subsequent quotes from Snorri are taken from Snorri Sturluson, Heimskringla. A

History of the Norse Kings, translated by Samuel Laing, Noroena Society, London, 1907.

Available online at http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Heimskringla 29

These two drawings are the only Snorri illustrations that form a kind of cartoon strip

sequence. 30

Snorri, op. cit. 31

This and subsequent quotes are from J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Harper Collins,

2007, p. 523. 32

Ibid., p. 515. 33

Ibid., p. 525. 34

Snorri, op. cit. 35

Tolkien, op. cit., p. 362. 36

Ibid. 37

Ibid., p. 361. 38

Ibid., p. 354. 39

Tolkien, op. cit., p. 335. 40

Ibid., p. 341. 41

Tolkien, “Drafts for a letter to ‘Mr Rang’”, (1967), in Humphrey Carpenter, The Letters of

J.R.R. Tolkien, 1981, p. 383. 42

In addition, there is an occurrence of the spelling Gandalf in Snorri, in the form of “King

Gandalf”. 43

Letter from Tolkien to Sir Stanley Unwin, 1946, reprinted in The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien,

p. 119. 44

Tolkien, op. cit., p. 504. 45

Snorri, Ynglinga Saga, in op. cit. 46

Tolkien, op. cit., p. 836. 47

Ibid., p. 837. 48

Snorri, Saga of Olaf Haraldson, in op. cit. 49

The many visual similarities between the drawing and the film image were made possible

through the use of a computer program called “Massive”, developed by Steve Regelous,

which gave greater control when designing scenes. 50

Kristin Thompson, “Gollum Talks to Himself. Problems and Solutions in Peter Jackson’s

The Lord of the Rings”, in Bogstad and Kaveny (eds.), Picturing Tolkien. Essays on Peter

Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, 2011, pp. 39-40. 51

Richard Taylor quoted in Robert C. Woosnam-Savage, “The Matériel of Middle-earth.

Arms and Armor in Peter Jackson’s The Lord of the Rings Motion Picture Trilogy”, in

Picturing Tolkien, 2011, p. 154. 52

Woosnam-Savage, op. cit., p. 155. 53

Thompson, op. cit., pp. 39-40. 54

As Richard Taylor says: “Another design paradigm was the need for identifiability. We set

out to create the iconographic look of each of these cultures, so when you looked at the film,

you immediately would be able to tell the difference between them.” Woosnam-Savage, p.

154. 55

Nils Ivar Agøy, Mytenes Mann. J.R.R. Tolkien og hans forfatterskap, 2003, p. 159. 56

Dan Madsen, “Update with Peter Jackson”, “The Lord of the Rings” Fan Club Official

Movie Magazine 8 (April-May 2003), pp. 22-31, in Woosnam-Savage, p. 158. 57

Ibid.